


The Sack of Hogwarts

by ladysherlockian



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysherlockian/pseuds/ladysherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- In which the Allied Forces of Narnia and LotR finally wipe Hogwarts off the face of the earth</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sack of Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> The story plays with the contrast between good and innocent Narnia and LotR characters and downright malevolent protagonists of Harry Potter.  
> Note: I have never read Harry Potter; the Harry in this story is not so much Rowling’s Harry, as my own imagination on what Harry is, based on the fanfiction to the books and the reviews of the novels. The idea is based on the evil creatures’ abhorrence to everything associated with the Good. Harry is such a wicked being. Yet, it is also a story about forgiveness. Harry regrets his evil deeds and he is pardoned.

The elven rope stung his wrists. Harry had never known such excruciating pain. There were moments when he felt that he would lose his hands, that they would fall off, and he almost screamed aloud. The pain pulsated, growing weaker and waxing to an unbearable one in a second. Then Harry bit his lips, so that he wouldn’t cry out. He couldn’t, not here, not now. A stream of blood went down from his lips. But he didn’t cry out, he managed to stop himself. All his friends were suffering just like him, or maybe even more than he did. And yet he could do nothing. Nothing at all. This only added to his torments.  
Then, there was the Lion. Before, Harry had often been afraid, but this was a different kind of fear. It felt like something deeper, fear mixed with some other emotions which Harry could not name. Was it… awe? Respect? Yet, when he accidentally glanced at the Lion, his body shook in an uncontrollable tremble. He had never been so scared in his life, however, this fear was even delightful, like a reminiscence of something long lost, something beautiful and precious, which – again – remained painfully nameless in Harry’s mind.  
Suddenly, it happened: the Lion roared. Harry wished he had his hands free so that he could cover his ears, cut himself off from this dreadful sound.  
The Lion roared, and as he roared, Hogwarts began to tumble down. It disappeared before Harry’s very eyes. For a moment, there was a cloud of dust hanging over the place. Then, there was nothing. Nothing at all, as if it had never been. The Lion roared again, and a forest sprung out of the ground. Soon, the entire area covered in greenery, not only young saplings, but a normal forest with trees of different ages and species. Some looked as if they had grown here for centuries.  
When Harry dared to look in the direction where the Lion had stood, he discovered, to his great relief, that He was gone. Another scene unfolded before Harry’s eyes.  
There was a wizard – because they, the others, had a wizard, too. He was contemplating the heap of wands gathered on the ground. They took everyone’s wands away and put them there. Harry trembled inwardly. He remembered all too well how they tore his wand away from him, it was like losing a part of himself, painful, like everything that happened to him recently.  
Now the wizard was examining the wands, perhaps counting them, or certainly thinking what he shall do with them. When Harry didn’t focus his eyes on him, the magician resembled the headmaster. You could even believe for a moment that it was only the headmaster bending over the wands. Yet, if you looked closer, the difference was obvious. And now, Harry did look closer at the wizard. He had a long beard, like all wizards do, a wizard’s hat and a staff on which he leaned. But there was also an important alteration. The wizard was clad in a white robe, so stunningly white that Harry couldn’t watch him for too long. The whiteness seemed to hurt his eyes. It was as if the rays of white beamed from the robe, and pierced Harry’s pupils.  
Harry glanced at the face of the wizard. The old man was busy with counting the wands and talking to others in a language Harry didn’t understand, so there was not hazard of meeting his eyes. Harry could safely observe the wizard.  
The magician looked at the wands with disgust, trying not to come to close to them, not to touch them even accidentally. The abhorrence of the wands was clearly written on his face. Yet, there lingered also something else, something like sadness or even pity. Or perhaps… forgiveness? Harry felt his heart beating faster and faster at noticing the shades of these feelings. He didn’t know why. Quickly, the wizard took some steps away from the wands and raised his staff towards them. In a split second, they burned, leaving only a handful of dust behind. Harry averted his eyes.  
Then Harry saw him. It was a boy near his age, or a young man. His face, with curled brown hair, seemed quite ordinary . Yet, a strange, delightful awe filled Harry. The face resembled that of a child with its innocence. But the eyes betrayed such depths of wisdom which one can accumulate only after centuries of study. Innocence and wisdom were mixed in this face, and Harry felt the strange boy look at him, slightly smiling. He extended his hand to Harry. It was like the rest of his body, filled with light, which seemed to issue out of this small person, making the air around him full of brightness, implying that he had a halo. Harry couldn’t believe it, but it appeared that the flesh of the stranger was transparent, as if made of delicate mist. For a moment, Harry was afraid that this vision would disappear. But the mysterious man-child walked steadily towards him, extending his hands to greet him. Harry felt his eyes get wet, and before he could do anything to stop it, a fugitive tear appeared and fell, straight on his tied hands. The pain vanished.  
Harry remembered only falling to his knees before the approaching being. After the pain was gone, so was his consciousness.


End file.
